


Infernal Three

by Beryll (Rynthjan)



Category: Original Work
Genre: Death, Drugs, Party, Serin, Sex, Slavery, Torture, phoenix empire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-14
Updated: 2013-10-14
Packaged: 2017-12-29 09:33:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1003805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rynthjan/pseuds/Beryll
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lilith, Gregory and Rasputin are bored Dracon teenager on Serin</p>
            </blockquote>





	Infernal Three

**Author's Note:**

> This is set before the Second Succession War, at this point the Emperor is still a Habichtswald

"How many fingers am I holding up?" Gregory asked, carefully holding his hand steady in front of Rasputin's face.

Rasputin blinked at them, his eyes drifting in and out of focus rapidly. "Uh… three…?" 

"Correct." 

"Fuck!" Rasputin punched the heap of soft pillows they were reclining on with his fist. "I'm going to skin that bitch! She promised this shit would zink me into the next dimension!"

Lilith giggled at her friend's righteous outrage. 

"Seriously, what were you expecting?" Gregory asked with a bored drawl. "With all the stuff already running through your bloodstream, it's a miracle you feel any effect at all."

Rasputin reacted with an annoyed grunt. "I'm not even sure I do feel anything at all." He sat up, looking remarkably steady for someone who had just injected himself with what was marked as a critical overdose on the small hypospray container. Muttering more curses and colourful threats towards the imbecile who had sold him the new drug, he carefully placed his trademark cowboy hat back on his black tresses. "I am guessing you don't want to try?" he then asked without much hope.

Gregory's grimaced with disgust. "Thanks, you know I have enough visions as it is."

Lilith considered the needle for a moment, but then waved it off as well. She hadn't done as many drugs as Rasputin maybe, but plenty enough to be bored of the various effects they could induce.

Sipping on her colourful cocktail, she surveyed the noisy party around them. Lots of their young and ambitious relatives indulging in every sin known to mankind and a few that were supposedly exclusive to House Dracon. A typical evening in one of the large dens of the Lair, the seat of power of both the Prince of House Dracon and the Duke of Serin. 

The large complex was a bunker more than anything else, with no windows to the outside world, heavily fortified against attacks from both humans and the voracious flora and fauna of Serin.

Most visitors found it to be a place both scary and impressive. To Lilith it was home and thoroughly boring.

Just like everything else in her life. 

Right now, her only hope of amusement was that her brother would get off his lazy, cowardly ass and make some serious attempt on her life.

"I'm bored." She voiced her complaint aloud, though she knew perfectly well what kind of response she would get from her two companions.

Rasputin huffed indignantly. "At least you still have two siblings left who you can try to kill." He grumbled. "Being an only child is so much more boring, isn't it, Greg?"

Even though Rasputin wasn't quite as high ranking as Lilith or Gregory, he came from a very old Dracon line and was the only child of the Count of Rosewater, a territory here on Serin known for its especially dense jungles and aggressive predators. The Count himself was widely rumoured to be trafficking with demons and anybody annoying him had a tendency to go missing and then reappear thoroughly dismembered. Nobody in their right mind messed with Rasputin.

The same was true for Gregory, the heir apparent to the Prince of House Dracon. He should have been at the top of the list for everyone gunning for a top spot in the Dracon hierarchy. The fact that he didn't hide that he was an oracle, a psychic who could see into the future made any attempts on him rather futile though and the corpses of those who had tried anyway littered his past.

Lilith herself was the youngest daughter of the Duke of Serin. 

Together they were known as the 'infernal three'. Sometimes they took it as a well earned compliment. Sometimes they used it as an excuse for excessive cruelty towards whoever had called them so.

They had been friends since they had been toddlers, all of the same age. Now they were in their late teens and all of them were suffering from the same problem.

"Everything is boring." Gregory summed up with a suffering sigh.

All three of them silently watched the party around them like predators might watch a herd of cattle which was grazing in a meadow, unsuspecting of the mortal danger they were in. Whenever they got this bored, they inevitably ended up using their relatives as entertainment and that usually was fatal for those involved in their fun.

"Where is Steve?" Rasputin suddenly asked.

Stephen Dracon was new on Serin. He was the son of the Duke of Pandora and had arrived only a few weeks ago, sent by his father to 'experience life in a proper Dracon court'. He was friendly, soft spoken and kind. If he had painted a crosshair on his back he couldn't have been more of a target for the cruel pranks of the local Dracon youths.

He had quickly come to the attention of Greg, Rasputin and Lilith. At first they had watched with baffled confusion how he seemed to have no survival instincts whatsoever. Then they had realized what a golden opportunity he was. They had taken Steve under their wing and now they used him as bait. Every time some other, bored noble targeted Steve, they took revenge on his behalf in the most gruesome and creative way they could come up with. He was their remedy against boredom.

They had arrived at the party together, but being his usual wimpy self, Steve had excused himself a while ago to flee to a bathroom. He simply didn't have the taste or stomach for the typical entertainments of a Dracon party. It didn't help that he was a low level empath.

"Hmm, he really should have been back by now." Gregory mused, his voice taking on the silky purr of a predator scenting the blood of prey. "I wonder what kind of trouble he has run into this time…"

Lilith felt the pleasant tingle of excitement. "Maybe we better check on him, eh?" she suggested, smoothly rising to her feet.

The long black robes she favoured looked like they were hard to move in, but she had mastered that art long ago. She liked the way they flowed around her, caressing her skin. They also concealed plenty of gear for various purposes. She was as lethal as any other Dracon. Maybe even more so since she didn't look like it.

Gregory got to his feet as well. Slender and not quite grown tall yet, he still looked more boy than man. Tight black pants, dainty ankle boots and a short cloak made up his outfit. His black hair wasn't quite as long as Lilith's but reached well down his back. His most startling feature were his intense, violet eyes. He looked unarmed. A sure sign among Dracon that he was extremely dangerous.

Together they pulled Rasputin to his feet. Of the three of them he looked most mature already even though they were the same age. Broad shouldered and healthily athletic, he was an attractive young man with tanned skin, blue eyes and a mop of short blonde hair which peeked out from under his black cowboy hat. He also was the one with the most exotic taste in clothing, wearing matching black cowboy boots, leather hot pants with two blaster belts slung low around his hips and a black duster.

"He went that way, I think." Rasputin pointed to a corner of the cavernous room where several slaves were on display in various positions, secured to racks, for the guests to play with.

They all expected to find Steve huddled in some corner, likely surrounded by jeering Dracon. But to their surprise this time he was actually on his feet and coming towards them. The wide eyed panic in his face was more what they had hoped for. His eyes lit up when he spotted them.

"You have to help me!" he exclaimed, wringing his hands.

So far he had never actually asked for their assistance, just accepted it with fitting gratitude, his empathic talents assuring him that they actually liked him in their own weird way. That he was now begging for help was a new and exciting development.

Lilith smiled at him with what little assurance she could muster. Looking at the shark like grins of Greg and Rasputin, she thought that hers was probably only marginally better.

"What happened, Steve?" she asked, "Did someone hurt you?"

"No, no, but they… they are going to kill him… and I don't know what to do!"

He looked utterly adorable in his helplessness.

"Kill who?" Greg asked hungrily.

"He's… I don't know his name… I… I just feel him in my heart…" Steve's explanation was as useless as was to be expected. "I… I tried to do what you would do. Told them they had to give him to me because I was a duke's son. They laughed at me."

A quick glance at her friends told Lilith they were fighting as hard against laughing as she was.

"Please…?" Steve begged again.

"Of course we'll help." Rasputin reassured him jovially, putting an arm around Steve's shoulders. "Just tell us where we can find… him."

Steve steered them towards the racks. 

One of them was occupied by a rather athletic, dark skinned, male slave. He was hanging upside down and some noble was vigorously fucking his face so Lilith had no way of telling whether he was pretty. Usually the toys displayed at such parties were, but now and then there was the random ugly in the bunch. The slave's body was covered in a colourful assortment of bruises, cuts and burn marks. Nothing really creative, just the normal signs of use.

More Dracon were clustered around the rack, cheering on their mate or holding fancy drinks and looking bored.

"Him?" Rasputin asked, just to make sure.

Steve nodded, his eyes brimming his tears and his face scrunched up. He had one arm wrapped around himself in a gesture that spoke of intense nausea.

Lilith briefly wondered why it was this slave they had to save when there were several dozen more in the room who wouldn't survive the night. But then she decided she didn't care. What she did care about what the entertainment that would be provided by the cute Dracon boy who was fucking the slave.

While Greg and Rasputin were still considering an opening, she moved through the onlookers and behind the grunting Dracon. He was too preoccupied to notice her. Never a thing a Dracon should be when in a place as hostile as the lair, she thought with a sweet smile. Her stiletto knife slipped through his flesh like it was warm butter.

He didn't even have time to register the pain before his left leg buckled, tendons vital to keeping him upright cleanly severed. With a surprised yell he collapsed.

His audience recoiled from him - or more precisely from Lilith - with small gasps. They were perceptive enough to recognize that her sudden appearance spelled danger for all of them. Then they noticed Greg and Rasputin hovering behind them and went very still.

"What the… fuck…" The Dracon boy Lilith had cut stared at his leg in confusion. The wound was bleeding only a little and he was too drunk to really comprehend what was happening.

"Would someone give me a hand." Lilith requested airily. "This slave is occupying the rack I need to put up my toy." She gestured at the Dracon sitting at her feet.

"With pleasure, my dear." Rasputin stepped up next to her, grinning broadly at her approach to the rescue they were supposed to conduct.

He made the mates of their intended victim help in releasing the slave and putting the Dracon in his place. Then they made them fuck their former friend. They didn't have to suggest killing him would be fun as well.

A good time was had by all.

None of them paid any attention to what happened to the slave, but Lilith did notice at some point that he and Steve were gone.


End file.
